Page 8 of When You Smile

Deciding to trust just her friends’ instincts about these things, she exhaled and closed her eyes, ignoring the fear, longing to be Taryn the Brave for once. “How can I argue with that?” She also decided to trust her own instincts and scooped up the old Nikon she couldn’t stop admiring. Of course, she’d have to score some film but didn’t mind the extra step. “I’m gonna grab this, too.”

Caz eyed the camera. “Are you a hipster in disguise?”

Taryn paused genuinely. “I’m not sure. But, um, I told you I was interested in photography, remember. I love the courses I’m taking, and I’m going to declare it officially.”

“Dude, I’m starting to really like you.” Caz batted her colorfully made up eyes. “Let’s all get iced coffees and be introspective.”

Taryn laughed. “Lead the way.”

Four hours later, long after the sun had dipped behind the horizon and early evening melted into night, Taryn followed Sasha and Caz and several of their friends across the lawn to a large two-story house with the letters TKE above the door. She could already feel the loud music pulse beneath her feet as they approached the scene that could only be described as brash and chaotic. One guy hung out of the second-story window yelling what sounded like rhyming poetry. Two girls were huddled on the sidewalk in front having some sort of dramatic conversation with hands on hips. A couple made out up against the brick pillar of the house, and another guy swung shirtless from a tree branch as a group below cheered him on. Most everyone was holding a red Solo cup, which Taryn had always kind of assumed was a college party cliché, but evidently wasn’t.

“Hot,” a dude said in her ear as he passed her in the doorway.

She looked down at her vest, which showed off way more skin than she was used to. Thank God her boobs weren’t huge or she never could have pulled off the look. “Thank you.” Was that what one should say? Maybe she should have just nodded instead. She’d workshop it.

Before she knew it, Caz appeared at her elbow with a red cup containing something purple and mysterious. Taryn raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What is this, and was it in your possession at all times?”

“Trash can punch. Harmless. And yes.” Caz sipped from her own cup and nodded happily at the results. “Okay, that’s good. Really easy. You’ll love it.”

Taryn took a hesitant sip but was surprised by the sweet, near Kool-Aid-like taste. She hadn’t been a huge drinker up until this point, so sipping would be the name of the game. She’d turned twenty-one in March, so the idea of drinking without looking over her shoulder was still a satisfying and new experience. Once they got settled in, she took a more generous swallow and caught the beat of the music. Now that combo was nice. She tossed in a very subtle head bop and caught the eye of a girl across the room who joined her, sending a sexy smile her way. This place was a vibe, and she felt herself starting to relax and enjoy the party.

“Like, where are you from?” a random guy in the kitchen asked her twenty minutes later when she went to refresh her drink. He was shirtless and wore a beauty pageant sash that said Mr. Sinner along with a backward black baseball cap.

“Oh, um. Dyer. Ever been?”

His eyes went wide and he slapped the counter probably harder than he meant to. That had to smart. “Isn’t that where they found a bunch of those crop circles?”

She frowned. “No. No, I don’t think it is.”

“Cool outfit.” His gaze dipped without apology to her chest. Dudes were so predictable. She could almost guess his next question. “Wanna see my room?” Yep, that had been it.

“Hmm. Can’t say I do.” She flicked her pointer finger at him. “Work on your game. It’s missing the whole middle section. Said with care, not judgment. Excuse me.” What was it about alcohol and talking to guys that zapped any and all trepidation? She decided to ride with it, which was helpful because the rest of the night was sadly the same. Drunk frat guys trying to make conversation, but clearly working with another set of motives that involved separating Taryn from her clothes.

“You’re hotter than my mama,” one guy called to her as she crossed the room to Sasha.

“What?” she asked, turning to him. “Play that sentence back. It’s disturbing.”

Even Caz, who apparently had a thing for people with glasses and gaming knowledge, was over the tired repetition. “The guy in front of the window? I thought he was gonna be a contender. He’s a beast at Fortnite but can’t tell me what color my eyes are after half an hour of conversation, ya know?”

“Too well. At least he didn’t compare your heat index to his mom’s.”

“What?”

She slowly lifted her cup to her lips. “Exactly.”

Taryn was on her third cup of that fruity punch and feeling so much looser because of it. Honestly, it was actually pretty marvelous stuff that had her enjoying the music and the freedom to dance and hang out. She should drink more frequently and let the good times happen because life was too short for third-act anxiety just when it was supposed to get good. She found a corner of the room and let herself groove to the music, which, to the frat brothers’ credit, wasn’t entirely awful. It was from that corner she first spotted the gorgeous blonde in jeans, brown boots, and a casual white blouse with flowy sleeves walking across the room. Hello. She didn’t fit in. At all. She was dressed for dinner out, not Friday night at the TKE house, and that snagged Taryn’s attention along with something vaguely familiar about her. Her confident carriage. The dimple on her right cheek that appeared when she smiled and waved at some girl she recognized as she glided through the room like she owned it. She was clearly on a mission, and no one was paying attention. Fueled by courage made of trash can punch, Taryn followed the blonde into the kitchen because she wasn’t quite ready to pull her gaze away. She didn’t know why or what she hoped to accomplish, but something dragged her like metal to a beautiful magnet.

“Excuse me,” Taryn said. The blonde turned. “Are you looking for someone?” Not that Taryn would be able to help even if she was. She’d figure that part out later.

The girl offered a smile. Luckily, it was a few decibels quieter in the kitchen that was now littered with empty beer cans and red cups. At least they didn’t have to shout. “Yeah, my boyfriend. He’s around here somewhere. I’m supposed to meet him.” The blonde quirked her head and Taryn was circling the familiar factor once again but couldn’t quite land on how.

“Do we know each other?” Taryn asked, squinting.

“Hmm. No. I don’t think so.” Her blue eyes were large and beautiful, but it was the voice that did it, linking the treasure trove of summertime memories to the face in front of her right now all these years later. Was it actually possible?

“Charlotte. Are you Charlotte?”

That seemed to catch the girl off guard. “Yeah. Charlie. Wait. How do we know each other?” It had been nearly eleven years, and Taryn hadn’t even gone through puberty the last time they’d seen each other. It made sense that Charlie wouldn’t recognize her.

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